Henry Gallant Saga 2: Lieutenant Henry Gallant (5 page)

In seconds, the
Intrepid
had become a derelict. At any time the enemy could take advantage of its vulnerability to either destroy or board and capture the ship, but the battle was not yet decided, as far as its captain and crew were concerned. No one was raising a white flag.

“Prepare to repel boards,” ordered Cooper over the ship’s speaker system, his voice still calm and reassuring. “All stations, don battle armor.”

Cooper turned to Gallant and grabbed his arm. “Get to engineering.”

Momentarily, Cooper’s professional mask fell, replaced by his familiar warm smile; squeezing Gallant’s arm he said, “Keep the lights on, Henry.”

“Will do, Dan,” replied Gallant, wondering how he was going to keep his promise.

Gallant left the bridge and ran through the Operations compartment. Briskly stepping through the hatch into the engineering spaces, he sealed the hatch behind him. The engineering compartments were normally packed with running equipment and humming machinery. Now it held mostly silent, mangled debris. Few pieces of equipment were working; a few were still being serviced by diligent crewmen who were trying to keep them going.

Gallant saw his Leading Petty Officer (LPO) frantically pulling on a broken frame beam along with several crewmen.

“Chief Howard, what’s your status?”

Huffing from exertion, the chief said, “Both reactors are down. The control rods were inserted so they are at least safe, as long as we keep the fuel containment and keep cooling them. Of course with the reactors down, the weapon systems are offline. We’re using residual heat to provide minimal power for essential equipment including life support. In addition, there are numerous small hull breaches in the aft portion of the ship and at least half of the engineering personnel are either injured or dead. I’ve counted five dead—so far.”

A fresh barrage of plasma and laser weapons from the Titans struck the
Intrepid,
further damaging its titanium hull and shaking the men were they stood.

“At least they’ve stopped firing missiles,” mumbled the chief.

“I’m going to the engineering control room and try to maintain minimal power. You keep the men working on the generators. Oh—and pass out weapons. We may need them before too long.”

Gallant watched Chief Howard nod his head slowly and then he turned to go to the control room. The engineering spaces seemed like a strange new land with broken beams and busted piping. Numerous damaged sections of the bulkhead caused a dull glow from heat and radiation.

When he entered in the engineering control room, the first thing Gallant saw was the burnt and mangled body of his friend and roommate John Paulson. He forced himself to turn away.

He looked around the room at the rest of the electronic cabinets torn from the side of the bulkhead. Reviewing the engineering equipment status, he was able to tap into the ship’s AI and get a virtual display of the ship. From the viewport, he could also see the planet below them.

“Make your report,” he ordered the AI and listened to the endless list of damaged and out-of-commission equipment from the stream of data collected from all spaces. Evaluating his options, he issued a confluence of orders to the engineering gang in an attempt to patch things together to restore power. For a short few minutes, he thought they would succeed, but once again the lights went out and only emergency illumination remained.

The Titans soon came to understand the havoc they had wrought on the UP vessel and changed their tactics. No longer satisfied to puncture her hull and burn the insides, they decided to capture the behemoth hulk as a prize and seize the FTL technology. The destroyer dispatched several small craft, which approached the
Intrepid
and then latched on to the hull. They used explosives charges to breach the hull and were able to make a hole large enough for the Titan troops to gain access into the interior of the
Intrepid.

The
Intrepid
was outgunned, crippled, and now the power was failing. The ship continued to drift slowly in space, and as a result of the battle damage, they were easily boarded.

Gallant quickly directed the engineering personal to prepare for combat instead of repairing equipment. The corridors were lined with panels and cabinets storing all manner of things from emergency food and water to firefighting apparatus. He opened a weapons locker and distributed weapons.

The aliens were not aware of the
Intrepid's
layout, nor did they have a cohesive plan for taking their ship, but they were entering through the blown bulkhead access in fairly large numbers. They were well-organized and well-armed. Against them, the ship’s small crew fought and resisted, but so much battle damage had been done to the ship’s operations and communications systems that the men weren’t able to mount a coherent defense.

While the combat raged, the shock of repeated plasma blasts struck the
Intrepid.
The concussion from one blast stunned Gallant. His senses told him something was seriously wrong; the sounds were the wrong noises for the engineering space. Loud cries of anguish and the jostling of crewmen combating fires reached his ears, but the rumbling of machines and the humming of equipment were absent. He looked into the chaotic darkness with uncomprehending eyes.

The firearms’ noise sounded like continuous thunder. Sharp lights shone and invaded his consciousness. Yet a vague uneasiness swept through him as he wondered what was going on. Soon the uneasiness turned into apprehension as the battle drew nearer. The acrid fumes of the plasma beams stung his nose. Oxygen not being consumed by fire was being sucked out into space from small hull ruptures. Sick bubbly yellow and green smoke waffled throughout the compartments. Wounded men sat upright, being attended to by their comrades using local medi-paks.

Lieutenant Stahl left his weapons control station near engineering and came running past. He staggered and fell in front of Gallant, mortally wounded. Gallant could only spare a few troubled seconds to morn his friend before he was forced to address more crises.

The crew kept up a steady fire, and under his direction they wounded a Titan and drove them back momentarily.

Gallant finally shook off the effects of his concussion and thought of the captain. He considered the possibility of going forward to support him. He wanted to confer with Chief Howard.

Where is Howard?

He took a deep breath.

This is the first test of a UP ship far from Earth and we’re losing.

The
Intrepid
engineering spaces were being quickly overrun, notwithstanding the crew’s brave, but desperate defense. He heard shouts and yells. Men were still struggling to get into battle armor and gather their weapons.

Once more he managed to gather a small group together and he coordinated their fire at the leading elements of Titan force, but all the crewmen were quickly hit by return fire.

A plasma blast splattered off the bulkhead next to Gallant, seriously burning him from his left shoulder down his back all the way to his right leg. He dropped to the deck in great pain from the burnt flesh. He lay there bleeding for several minutes.

Badly wounded, unable to repel the boarders, or fight effectively within the damaged compartment full of wounded, he realized there wasn’t anything more he could do in engineering.

I’ve got to get to the bridge. That’s where the captain will make a stand—got to get moving.

Run!

CHAPTER 7
NO MORE RUNNING

The bridge was now the focus of battle.

Captain Cooper defended the forward section of the bridge with several men behind a makeshift barricade. They maintained a steady suppressing fire.

Titan warriors emerged from the Operations compartment and spread out into the darkened space, returning fire.

Gallant crawled out of from the vent he had been hiding in and surreptitiously worked his way behind the Titans. As he emerged from his dark hideout, he fired his handgun and had to blink from the bright flash of his muzzle blast. He hit his target and one of the Titans fell. He moved along the deck stepping over the corpses of the fallen enemy and comrades alike. Screams and shouts echoed from crew members engaged in the fight.

From his position, behind the Titans on the periphery of the bridge, he was able to pick off several of the more exposed aliens. They couldn’t shift their position to get a good shot at him without exposing themselves to the bridge crew’s crossfire. His fire continued to be surprisingly effective. After an agonizing few minutes, he was able to drive away the nearest Titans. He found himself down on the deck once more firing in a prone position.

Gallant could see Captain Cooper and Neumann in pressure suits at the epicenter of the battle defending the bridge with a ragged group of men, only a few of whom were in their battle armor. The ferocious bloody battle was being waged as a wildly irregular series of personal combats, proceeding one after another. The struggle favored first one side then another. The action was close as the heavy fire continued.

The outcome seemed to be teetering precipitously.

Gallant continued to move forward closer to the fieriest fighting. The flash of a plasma discharge gave him just enough warning to throw himself flat down under the nearby shelter of a cabinet before a following plasma discharge came his way. Twice he felt the heat of near miss plasma blasts—once over his arm—another grazed his leg. Then the wave of the action washed past him and he found several men moaning nearby on the deck.

He tripped on the mutilated body of William Craig, his vacant eyes staring up at Gallant—his once youthful face was disfigured by burnt flesh and splattered with blood.

Bill
. . ., flashed into Gallant’s mind, but he quickly turned his thoughts away.

The struggling group of wounded men sought shelter behind whatever large metal objects afforded. As the fighting madness ebbed away, Gallant found shelter behind a large cabinet. He realized the nearby crewmen would die soon without medical assistance.

He leveled his pistol once more and fought his way into the thick of the chaos. He crept along the deck firing his gun as he moved, and then he jumped into a narrow hatchway. Nearby firing continued.

Grabbing, thrusting, punching, Gallant found himself in hand to hand combat with a Titan warrior. The tangled struggle ended with a thrust when Gallant grasped his knife and plunged into his adversary.

On the starboard side of the compartment, the fighting likewise continued at close quarters.

Fatalistically, his pistol redlined, out of ammo, forcing him to duck down as the captain charged forward directly at the remaining Titans. Time stopped for Gallant—he watched as a laser blast hit the captain squarely in the chest, a potentially fatal wound—splattering blood on the deck around him.

Several men laid down heavy covering fire while Neumann hurtled forward and dragged the injured commanding officer back behind the barricade.

Thank goodness,
thought Gallant.

Gallant grabbed a nearby discarded rifle and rose once more into the action. He started shouting, “Intrepids! Intrepids! Here! Here!”

A few men rallied toward him and together they charged forward one more time, but the group was insufficient to drive the Titans out.

Gallant gave a sharp cry and fell to the deck when he was once again seared by a near miss plasma blast. Agonizing pain shot across his shoulder blade as the new plasma burn compounded his previous injuries causing him to reach the limit of his tolerance.

Weak from pain, he concentrated on thinking clearly. Weapons were once more being pointed in his direction. He moved farther behind the bulkhead before an irregular volley of energy streamed toward him. Once again, he found himself lying flat on the deck. His arms had no strength to lift him up. Still the bloody battle continued to be waged with undisciplined surges back and forth between the dwindling numbers of the few remaining combatants on each side.

At last, the remaining members of the bridge crew popped up from behind the barricade, and made an audacious assault into the center of the bridge. There the struggle ended when Neumann killed the last of the Titans.

The Titan boarding party was eliminated. The internal contest was over.

Despite having reclaimed the ship, they had no time to rest. Somehow they had to defend the ship against further assaults.

What can we do about the destroyer?

CHAPTER 8
HUMMINGBIRD

The Titan destroyer maintained its relative station off the
Intrepid's
starboard quarter, patiently awaiting news of their boarding party’s progress.

A bleeding dysfunctional hulk, the
Intrepid
and its decimated crew remained sitting ducks.

Gallant sat amongst the dead and wounded on the burnt-out bridge gathering his thoughts. Despite his painful wounds, he had to persevere—there would be time to see the doctor later—hopefully.

“Gallant, status report?” demanded LCDR Neumann, as he climbed into the captain’s chair in the center of the chaos.

“Yes, sir,” said Gallant distractedly, as he watched the bleeding body of Dan Cooper being carried off the bridge by med-techs. Refocusing his attention on Neumann, Gallant said, “We’ve retaken the ship and I’ve dispatched several men to patrol for any Titan warriors still able to fight, but the destroyer will send a new boarding party as soon as they realize we’ve prevailed. Or they’ll start taking pot shots at us, depending on how badly they want to capture our FTL drive. Somehow we’ve got to disable their ship—and we’ve only a short window to act.”

“Yes, time to act is short.” Neumann shifted back and forth in his seat.

Gallant brow wrinkled in thought as he continued, “We don’t have an anti-ship weapon, but perhaps we can make one.”

“I’m listening.”

“We could put several nuclear warheads aboard the Titan assault craft they used to board us. Then using a Hummingbird’s tractor beam, we could pull it into position and then launch it toward the destroyer. When it gets close enough, a remote detonation would cause one hell of an explosion.”